


hold me until the rapture

by iamsiriuslyriddikulus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Bottom Remus Lupin, Dom/sub, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Painplay, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Top Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsiriuslyriddikulus/pseuds/iamsiriuslyriddikulus
Summary: After a particularly brutal full moon, Remus finds healing by relinquishing control to someone he trusts.Part of swottypotter's "10 Days of Healing" mini-fest.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 144





	hold me until the rapture

“What do you want for breakfast?” Sirius asks. He runs his fingers down Remus’s neck to his shoulders, and a shiver goes through him.

“I’m not feeling particularly hungry.” It hasn’t hit him yet. He’s sure it will; it always does. Full moons like the one last night always leave him ravenous and depleted. But as depleted as he currently feels, he mostly feels sore. 

His recollections of the previous night are hazy, but the bruises on his body are worse than usual. One—a deep purple bordering on black—takes up half his left thigh. And when he puts his weight on his right arm, rolling over in bed, a sharp pain shoots up his elbow to his shoulder. He hasn’t looked in the mirror yet, but he can feel the burn from the scratches and saw the concern in Sirius’s face when he first rolled over.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you?” Sirius asks, and despite the fact that he doesn’t look up, Remus is certain that he’s scowling. Instead, he lets out a low hum and adjusts himself on Sirius’s chest until he can hear the steady pulse of his heartbeat against his ear. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s no way to treat someone who’s _wounded_ ,” Remus teases, and Sirius snorts as he pulls his hand back up and tousles Remus’s hair.

“You’re such a prat.” He tugs lightly, pulling Remus’s head back a bit, and Remus breathes in sharply as a shiver runs through him.

“There is one thing you could do for me.” He looks up for the first time as he sets a hand on Sirius’s chest. Sirius’s expression softens, and his fingers loosen.

“Anything.”

“You could fuck me.” He relishes watching the way Sirius’s cheeks redden, and his tongue darts out, wettings his lips.

“ _Remus_.” Sirius shakes his head, but beneath his hand, Remus feels his pulse quicken.

“Really. Last night was rough, and when you take control, you know it makes me feel taken care of. It’d be nice to just be able to let go and know you’ve got me.” When Sirius continues staring at him, his face inscrutable, Remus bites the inside of his cheek, wondering whether he’s gone too far. “It’s only if you want to, obviously.”

“I do.” Sirius shifts, and his eyes move from Remus’s face to his arm down to his left thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Remus lets out the breath he’s been holding.

“Isn’t that a little bit of the point?” He raises an eyebrow suggestively, and Sirius frowns.

“You know what I mean. You’re—” He cuts off as he considers what word to choose.

“What? Fragile? You know I’m not. Besides, I trust you.” Sirius’s eyes search his for a moment before he nods.

“Fine. You know the safeword, right?”

“No. I’ve forgotten it,” Remus says dryly, and Sirius grabs him by the jaw.

“Don’t be cute. I need verbal confirmation.” Remus’s breath catches in his throat. No matter how many times it happens, the shift in Sirius’s voice and the way he holds himself always makes a thrill run through him.

“Yes,” he breathes and nods against Sirius’s hands as best as he can. “Winter.”

As soon as he responds, Sirius lets go and gets up from the bed, leaving Remus collapsing forward under the sudden lack of support. “Good.” He whimpers and pulls himself up just as Sirius speaks again. “Get undressed.”

Remus moves as quickly as his body will allow. His body thrums, electric and on edge as he carefully sets his boxer-briefs on his nightstand and turns to face Sirius again. The sight that greets him makes his cock stir. 

Sirius has pulled his hair back into a loose bun, and dangling from his right hand is a thick, black leather collar. Without thinking, Remus stretches his head back and presents his neck, earning a satisfied chuckle from Sirius. “Aren’t you eager?” Sirius says and reaches out, running the backs of his fingers up Remus’s neck to his cheek. He pauses, and a look of tender affection flickers across his face as he runs his thumb along Remus’s cheekbone, carefully jumping over a cut. “My beautiful boy.” Heat rises to Remus’s cheeks with the compliment, but he knows better than to speak back.

As quickly as it comes, it disappears, and Sirius’s face expression darkens again as he puts the collar around his neck. Remus’s head drops forward instinctively to allow Sirius to buckle it. The feel of it, tight around his neck, is familiar and soothing, and Remus feels himself instinctively relax.

“Can you manage being on your hands and knees? Nod or shake your head.”

Remus nods and adjusts himself. He hisses in pain as he puts pressure on his right arm, tears welling in his eyes as a shock runs up it. It takes him another minute to find a position that works, but he does and grips the headboard with his left and holds his weight with it.

For half a minute, there’s nothing, and Remus finds himself tempted to speak. To ask if everything is okay and make sure that Sirius is still comfortable with this. From his position, he’s sure the bruise on his leg is in full display.

But just as he’s about to, he hears movement, and Sirius brings his hand down with a sharp smack on his ass. Remus jerks, careful still to keep his weight on his left side as the pain blossoms. He gasps and his fingers tighten around the headboard. 

“Aren’t you going to count?”

Remus blanches. In the thrill of the moment, he’s forgotten. “On-” But before he can finish, Sirius brings his hand down again, harsher than before. Pain blossoms, and when Sirius pulls his hand away, he can feel the sting of the air on his bare skin. “Two.”

They work like that for a minute, Sirius hardly hesitating between them as he gives him another, and one more. Soon enough, his left arm shakes under the effort of keeping himself upright, but he keeps counting between gasps. When Sirius pauses, Remus glances over his shoulder to see him admiring his ass, undoubtedly marked by red handprints, and the words bubble out before he can stop them. “Is that all you’ve got?” he says, his voice distorted and tense.

When Sirius’s eyes meet his, cold and unforgiving, Remus blanches, suddenly feeling lost for breath in a way he knows has nothing to do with the collar around his neck. “All I ask is for you to behave.” Sirius runs a hand up Remus’s spine, nails digging harshly up his back. Remus arches inward at the sensation and closes his eyes. “You can’t help yourself, can you? You can’t enjoy something. You have to be a brat.” His hand reaches Remus’s hair, and Remus hardly has time to brace himself before he yanks it back, tearing Remus full force from the headboard.

“I’m sorry,” Remus gasps, tears welling in his eyes.

“Did I ask you to speak?”

Remus tries to shake his head, but Sirius’s grip is too tight, and he lets out a whimper instead.

“If I let go, will you behave and let me take care of you?” It takes him a second to realize that Remus can’t nod from his current position, so he adds, his voice a little softer. “You can speak.”

“Yes, Sir.” His head throbs as his vision turns slightly fuzzy and black at the corners.

Sirius lets go, and Remus falls, barely catching himself on his left arm before hitting the bed. He takes in a heaving breath, shoulders shaking, and from behind him, he hears Sirius pull a dresser drawer open. He hardly has time to contemplate the reason before Sirius’s brings his hand down, this time, striking him across both cheeks with the unrelenting leather of what Remus can only assume is his belt. Remus closes his eyes and allows his head to fall against the bed as he counts, thrashing as each new hit reverberates throughout his body. The pillow catches his cries and muffles them as he sobs out a number he’s not even certain is right.

When he stills, Remus’s body quivers. He’s unsure how much longer he’ll be able to hold himself. His entire body vibrates, pain radiating throughout him, but, against the sheets, he can feels his cock, hard against his stomach. He shifts, and a noise spills out of him as he finally collapses, taking deep, ragged breathes.

He’s hardly laid there for more than a few seconds when he hears the sound of footsteps by the side of the bed. His head swims, and the noises move in and out of focus. “You okay?” Sirius asks, and he feels a hand, light on his back.

Remus nods, and the hand vanishes, leaving him aching at its absence. He doesn’t have to wait long, however, to learn what Sirius plans to do next with him. He throws Remus’s left arm over his head, flat on the bed, and Remus follows suit with the right, knowing that Sirius won’t want to touch it. Sirius then places an arm under Remus’s abdomen and lifts his waist up until Remus’s legs bend beneath him, and his ass sticks obscenely in the air.

“Can you hold yourself like this?” Remus shakes his head. “That’s fine.” Sirius holds Remus’s weight in the crook of his arm, careful not to hurt him, and as the blood rushes in his ears, Remus hears the distinctively _pop_ of the lid of the lube opening.

His breathing quickens, his neck and face flush with anticipation, and he squirms, desperate to get any friction. But Sirius knows how to hold him without giving in. Instead, he spreads his legs further apart and presses two fingers in. Remus moans, but the sound catches in his throat, and his eyes fly open. 

Sirius works him, until he’s whimpering, half-undone. His fingers curl inside of him, stretching him, and Remus’s knees nearly buckle. He clutches the sheets in both fists and gasps as the pain in his right arm starts up immediately. Still, he doesn’t let go, twisting the fabric until the pain crawls up his shoulder and into his neck just below his ear.

And then Sirius pulls out. He lets out a whine and relaxes. The pain ebbs, but he still feels it, pulsing through him. Still, he can’t find it in himself to care. Before he can catch his breath, Sirius puts a thick, metal plug against his lips. “Suck.” Remus opens his mouth. He runs his tongue over it before wrapping his lips around it. He sucks until Sirius tells him to stop and presses it against him.

Remus lifts his hips weakly for a moment before falling, shaking again, against Sirius’s arm.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius says, and he pushes the plug in slowly. Remus lets out a half-swallowed moan, and weakly pushes back against it until he feels it flare, stretching him out. His eyes water, and he feels suddenly aware of the sharp sting on his ass where Sirius’s belt hit him. His shudders, tears spilling over into the sheets and chokes trying to catch his breath. A buzzing noise starts in his ears, swelling and shutting out everything else until—

“Done.”

Remus shivers—depleted, full, and painfully hard. Carefully, Sirius pulls his arm out from under him and rolls him over until he’s laying back against the bed, thrumming in pain, the base of the plug firmly against him.

“Are you okay to continue?” Sirius asks. It takes Remus a moment to ground himself, but when he does, he nods. “I’m going to need verbal confirmation again, sweetheart.”

“Yes.” It comes out as two syllables, raspy and heavy against his tongue. Sirius comes into his line of sight again, slightly blurry, and hooks a finger into the ring at his collar and pulls Remus upright and sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Can you go on your knees, or will that hurt your thigh?”

“I wanna try.” His words slur, and he gathers the strength he has in him before moving until he’s kneeling in front of Sirius. His eyes burn again, the bruise tender and inflamed from the position. It hurts, but it’s bearable. He nods, and Sirius moves behind them to their closet.

Remus knows what Sirius has in his hands before he feels Sirius stretch his legs again, wider apart until he can put the spreader bar between them. He makes quick work of it, and when he finishes, he puts his fingers against the base of the plug, twisting and pushing inwards.

Remus nearly falls forward from the force of it and cries out. Behind him, Sirius chuckles. He steps back around, standing above Remus and looking down, and hooks a finger into the waistband of his sweats. Even through the fabric, Remus can tell that Sirius is hard for him. 

Sirius tugs them down and steps out of them, and Remus moans as Sirius’s cock comes into view, the head red, a bead of precome running past it. “Fuck, look at you, so eager. You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” 

Remus nods.

“Whose are you?”

“Yours.” It comes out as hardly more than a whisper.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“Your slut. I want your cock in my mouth. I want to taste you. I want you to use me.” The words spill out of him, and Sirius smirks down at him.

“I thought so.” Sirius pushes a thumb past Remus’s lips and into his mouth, and Remus sucks without being asked. He looks at Sirius through his eyelashes, watching as his face darkens. When Sirius’s eyes close, and his head tilts back, Remus feels his own cock strain against his stomach.

Sirius pulls it out and drops his hand to the ring of the collar. “Keep your hands behind your back and show me what you’ve got, sweetheart.” Remus opens his mouth just as Sirius tugs him forward. He runs his tongue up Sirius’s cock, lapping the precome with his tongue. As his lips wrap around he head, he lets out a low moan.

Sirius’s hand drops from the collar and moves instead to Remus’s hair. His nails scrape against his scalp, and Remus relaxes his mouth as he takes Sirius deeper. When Sirius finally bottoms out—Remus’s nose flush against Sirius’s skin, unable to breath—he grips Remus’s hair and holds him until Remus’s eyes water. Remus teeters, nails digging into his palms as he tries to keep from reaching out and finding something to steady himself on.

And when Sirius loosens his hold and pulls back, he inhales sharply through his nose and shakes, barely steadying himself before Sirius moves his hips forward again. He fucks into his mouth, lazily at first, his grip tightening and then loosening on Remus’s hair. Remus sucks, swirls his tongue around the head when Sirius nearly pulls out, and it earns him a low moan from Sirius. The sound makes him dizzy, and he repeats it again, soaking in the red of his cheeks.

Sirius must feel his eyes on him, and he opens his own, meeting Remus’s gaze. His pace quickens, and he thrusts harder, until Remus can hardly breathe, until he’s nearly choking. It takes him a moment to realize he’s crying, undoubtedly making a mess, but Sirius stares down at him, lips parted and pupils blown.

The only warning Remus gets before he comes is Sirius’s fist closing around his hair, strong enough to make him whimper. Sirius’s body jerks, and the pain blossoms as his grip tightens, sending white spots across Remus’s eyes. 

Although he tries to stop it, he can’t. Seeing Sirius like this—lost in pleasure because of him, still half-hard in his mouth as he rocks himself to completion—is too much, and Remus comes as well against his stomach.

Sirius waits until he’s soft and pulls back. Remus does his best to swallow all the come, but a bit spills out onto his lips and onto his chin. Despite the urge to wipe it away, he doesn’t, knowing that consequences of coming without asking will be bad enough.

Sirius’s eyes open, and he looks down on Remus’s face and smiles. “Look at you, darling. You’re a fucking mess. You’re beautiful.” He cups Remus’s cheek as he stares, eyes darting to Remus’s swollen lips.

Just as he steps back, the smile disappears, and Sirius’s gaze drop lower.

“Did you come without me even touching you?” Sirius asks, impressed. Remus nods, and his heart pounds against his chest. “Did I tell you that you could?” His voice drops, and the surprise giving way to disappointment. Sirius clicks his tongue along the roof of his mouth. “You were doing so well, too,” he mutters and gives Remus a look that makes him shrink.

Remus opens his mouth to apologize but catches himself, biting his tongue instead. Sirius’s thumb catches the come and wipes it away. “Stand up.”

It’s an impossible task, and Sirius knows it. Still, he watches, lips quirked up in amusement, as Remus struggles to stand without using his arms, legs spread wide by the bar between them. Only when Remus nearly falls forward does he take pity and grabs ahold of him under his left arm, lifting him up to a standing position.

Once he’s certain that Remus is upright, he lets go and, without warning, twists Remus’s right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The pain is jarringly sharp, and Remus yells out as his head falls forward into the crook of Sirius’s neck. “You couldn’t wait, could you?” He twists again, harder than before, and Remus’s body convulses.

“Say you’re sorry.”

Remus hardly opens his mouth before Sirius’s free hand moves to his cock and grips it at the base. Remus keens, oversensitive, and the words finally spill out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Sirius, _please_ , I can’t. I can’t—” Sirius flicks the nub hard and drops his attention to Remus’s cock, roughly stroking it.

His hand is dry, bordering on painful, and Remus gasps and thrashes, his body trying to pull back as Sirius holds him in place. “You can’t what? Come?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, tough luck. Because we’re going to stay here, just like this, until you do.” He runs a finger over the head and presses inward at the slit until Remus shouts out again, blinding rapidly.

Sirius works him until he’s sure he’s going to faint. He’s not sure how long they stand there or how he’s able to stay upright. But despite the pain, his cock eventually hardens, and he comes, sore and whimpering.

His vision darkens for a second, and his knees buckle underneath him, but Sirius’s arms wrap around him, warm and reassuring, and catch him. His eyes shut, and he shakes as Sirius’s lips press against his ear.

“Remus, you did such a good job. Are you okay? Nod for me, baby.” Remus manages little more than a jerk of his head, and Sirius presses a kiss to his neck as he lays him down on the bed, on his stomach. Vaguely, he realizes that Sirius undoes the spreader bar, and his legs to limp against the bed. His body throbs, and he whimpers, stilling when he feels the bed dip under Sirius’s weight, and he presses up against him.

They lay like that, Remus floating somewhere just on the edge of unconsciousness as Sirius runs his fingers down his back and peppers kisses to his face, humming quietly. It takes time, but slowly, he grounds himself, feels himself enter his body again, aware of each muscle, each bruise. When he opens his eyes, Sirius is staring at him.

“Hey,” Sirius says and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

Remus shakes his head. It’s enough to make him wince, and he can’t help but laugh and the worried crease that forms immediately between Sirius’s eyes. “No. That was exactly what I needed.”

The crease disappears, and Sirius smiles. “Good. Collar off?"

"Not yet," Remus mumbles.

"Are you okay enough for me to get a washcloth and clean you up, or should I stay?” 

Remus considers for a moment, aware of what his body needs. “You can go.” He sighs and closes his eyes, and he feels the bed shift underneath him again as Sirius stands. “Oh, and Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I can go for breakfast now too.”

Sirius chuckles. “Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”

The door shuts behind him, and the room stills, quiet, as Remus sinks into the bed.


End file.
